


I Would Bring You Rings of Gold

by theoceanpath



Series: Featherless [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, Yuzu and the love of his life, because Yuzu, which is the ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23627656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoceanpath/pseuds/theoceanpath
Summary: “Do you see those?” he asked, eyes bright with sparks of fairytales and coated brass trophies.Rings of gold,he promised.Nothing less.For a brief, shivering moment he almost heard her laugh bounce off the speakers.
Relationships: Yuzuru Hanyu/Kōri 氷
Series: Featherless [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546285
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	I Would Bring You Rings of Gold

_But I would bring you rings of gold_

_I'd even sing you poetry…_

_If you would stay beside me._

* * *

He was young and his eyes were fire over the indoor Arctic, and he thought Romeo was a brave lover. Romeo never left his love, Romeo paid with his life, and Romeo held her hand until the vengeful wine strangled the last breath in his body.

He was young and his eyes flashed longingly across a smooth sheet of hardening ice as the show's organizers made adjustments to the honeycomb lighting.

 _Skating is life_ , his idols told him. _Skating is our heartbeat._

Yuzu was young and in love, and his beloved was the coldest surface he had ever known.

Romeo was a brave lover. He swore to be one, too.

* * *

Yuzu was seventeen when he stepped out of Nice with a bronze amulet dangling from his neck.

The ice was good to him that day. Except for a fall in the free— he was beyond exhausted and _she_ wasn't helping— it felt like a victory. One of many, many more to come, he promised.

 _Do you see those?_ he asked, pointing to the row of yellow medals finding home above the hearts of their new conquerors. His eyes were bright with sparks of fairytales and coated brass trophies. _Rings of gold_ , he promised. _Nothing less._

For a brief, shivering moment he almost heard her laugh bounce off the speakers.

* * *

Yuzu was nineteen at Sochi. The gold pendant on his chest was held in place by a deep blue river, forged into silhouettes of mountains, and more brilliant than the star-pierced nights at the evacuation center.

 _One gold,_ he whispered as the lights flickered like a hundred exploding stars. _One more to go._

He was Romeo; he was Juliet. The world called him a brave lover.

* * *

He was twenty-two and he almost gave up. He was twenty-three and he didn't.

Another loop around his neck. Two gold rings at last, and this one was solid.

He stretched his arms on the podium, feeling his rinkmate's fingertips tickle his ribs and the cold of _her_ smile brush against his neck.

He didn't know if he'd ever be able to compete again, but for now, everything was perfect.

* * *

He wasn't at Worlds that year. He wasn't at the Grand Prix Final.

He lost Worlds the next year. He lost the Grand Prix Final.

 _W_ _hat's_ _wrong?_ he asked her, desperate in the aftermath of Nationals.

Like a lover scorned, he traced question marks on her mirror-toned skin and she held her silence.

* * *

He watches the birds evaporate in the afternoon heat. His first Four Continents gold was the last one for the season, bookending his silver failures with a spectacle before his practice rink was put to sleep.

The world has since shut down in ways he never imagined. Fear and silence leave their tracks everywhere. The only constant is the figures tripling on the news.

He hasn't seen _her_ for weeks.

It feels like a betrayal.

He still has his rings of gold. They shine like jewels in the fake sunlight as the flatscreen reverts to the black of empty asphalt and body bags piled at crematoriums. He hugs them to his chest when he curls up on bed and lets his mind drift to endless dreams of _her._

Sometimes he wonders if Romeo was a coward for dying. There are hundreds of stories and thousands more left unsaid about a fight to live. Romeo fought to _love._ He asks himself for the dozenth time if the hero of Shakespeare's play couldn't have fought for both.

"We made it to this day," his Mother reminds him when she catches him speculating how many weeks it will take for the cities to return to normal. "Hopefully we'll make it to the next."

She doesn't have answers either.

He picks up his console and cranks up the volume lest he find himself missing _her_ again.

* * *

Weeks pass. The world is still drowning. He still hasn't heard anyone laugh. He still hasn't visited _her._

He stares at the rings of gold entwined around his wrists, memories from an era where crowds would gather to watch him and fear nothing but ill-executed spins and messy landings. Where fans would shower golden bears in solidarity, shoulder to shoulder, cheering loudly.

 _Someday,_ he hopes. He _believes._ He'll see her again. And everyone else.

There's a bit more noise outside the window now. Spring birds call to each other, little winged Romeos and Juliets turning less crowded streets into their new playground. The concrete racetracks get to rest for now.

But when they wake up— when the rinks wake up and he finally puts his skates on and storms back to the ice —

He smirks at the thought. _She_ better be ready.

* * *

_I have no use for rings of gold_

_I care not for your poetry…_

_I only want you near me._

**~For the Dancing and the Dreaming** **(How to Train Your Dragon 2)**


End file.
